


Good Opinion

by Hormonal_Trashbag



Series: Reylo Fanfiction Tropes [3]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Reylo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7878400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hormonal_Trashbag/pseuds/Hormonal_Trashbag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My good opinion once lost is lost forever." -Jane Austen, Pride & Prejudice</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will you allow me my freedom if I consent to marry you?”</p>
<p>He blinked, startled by her question. “You cannot be serious. Regardless of what my mother may want, we have no need to marry.”</p>
<p>The flickering candlelight cast wild shadows on her lovely face. There was something absolutely untamable about her, something he could never touch should he want to; Ben found that he decidedly did not. She was fierce and unforgiving as the sea, and he could not fully comprehend the twist of desire coiled in his gut at her unmoving gaze.</p>
<p>Her response was simple. “Is that really true?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have mixed feelings on the Rey Kenobi theory, but Rey needed a name, and for the sake of this story, I decided to relent.
> 
> If you can't tell, I'm obsessed with Austen. 
> 
> The arranged marriage trope was requested more than once, so here's a shout out to magicwonderdreamfantasy and 13oct. I hope you'll like it! :)

There was no denying that Rey Kenobi reveled in her freedoms. Her family was illustrious but long gone, and despite their good name, she had been left with enough money for a small dowery and little more; certainly not enough for her to live independently for any duration of time.

She was fortunate enough to live on the good graces of a family friend instead, and while he had raised her to act properly with company, he let her scour the endless, rolling hills of the countryside when able. He saw no reason to keep her to the house, when fresh air and exercise did her such good, and kept her spirits high. So long as she made time for her studies, because he always insisted she be educated beyond what was usually allowed her gender, she was free to explore the grounds, and the woods beyond.

Now that she was getting older, she feared she would begin to lose her privileges. Already, she was at an age where she should be considering marriage.

At the moment, however, she was determined to enjoy herself. It was a particularly warm summer day, and about a mile from the estate was a small river, private enough for her to bathe in. With great care she hung her gown over a low branch, leaving her in little more than her undergarments, which she hiked up to her hips, for fear of wetting them in the chilled, flowing water.

She sighed as she dipped a bare toe in, then slid her foot down to stand on smooth stones. Rey waded deeper, until the water was lapping at the fine hairs of her thighs. The temptation to toss aside her thin garments to swim naked was strong, but she resisted, instead letting down the curls her handmaiden had pinned to her head that morning.

Sun filtered through green leaves and Rey shook out her hair. There was a nearby rustling, but she could hardly be bothered by it, not when every bird, rabbit, and fox seemed set on making noise. The sound came closer, with the snapping of twigs and crackling of papery leaves, the faintest clopping of hooves, and Rey wondered if it was a stag that approached for a drink.

Slowly she turned, in the hopes of catching a glimpse before the beast was scared off, but instead, she met the startled face of a young man leading a horse. He had a pale complexion, a narrow face and long nose to match, though strangely full lips that should have been out of place, now parted with surprise. His dark eyes were piercing, and nearly matched the thick mane of hair that seemed positively wild under the brim of his hat.

His eyes went frighteningly wide, threatening to pop from his head, and Rey felt her cheeks and the tops of her her breasts grow warm with a deep flush. It was almost accidental, the way his gaze travelled down the length of her exposed figure to where her undergarments stopped, just covering the juncture of her thighs.

“Turn about!” she exclaimed, one hand dropping her garments in order to cover her chest.

He spun around violently, as if remembering that it was, in fact, rude to stare at a woman as she swam in her underthings, quite alone in the privacy of the trees.

“What the _blazes_ is a young woman doing naked in the woods?” he returned in a sharp tone. “Witchcraft? Deals with the devil?”

Rey scoffed, pushing through the slow current to the riverbank. Though she knew he was being facetious, she could not hold her tongue, not for a strange man that thought he had any right to impede her enjoyment of such a lovely afternoon.

“Pardon, Sir, but it was very clear I was bathing in the water. It is a hot day, and this is private property! I have no need to make excuses to strangers, and it should be me asking what _you_ are doing here.”

“Watering my horse, obviously!” he answered. “I meant only to pass through, and--”

She interrupted him, uncaring how ill-mannered it made her seem.

“And you will continue to pass through,” she said, pulling her gown over her head. “You have no right to--”

It seemed he had no qualms about acting uncivil, either.

 _“I_ have no right?” he asked, “have you no idea who my family--”

“No,” she cut him off resolutely, “and who you _think_ you are is of no consequence to me.”

Appropriately dressed once more, she smoothed her clothing down, picking up her boots to walk barefooted through the grass. She held her head high as she walked past him, not bothering to look in his direction as she walked.

“Good day, Sir,” she brusquely said, to which his immediate reaction was to growl.

“Will you not allow me to at least accompany you home?”

“I will not,” she retorted, “I said _good day,_ Sir.”

She marched through a thicket, him undoubtedly staring at her back, her gown rumpled and hair a free tangle of loose, brown waves, feet still bare. The only thing that gave her confidence then was the knowledge that she would likely never meet the man again.

 

* * *

 

It was at tea that Leia Organa turned, quite suddenly, to her twin brother to announce, “It is time Ben settled down.”

His immediate response was to swallow, and slowly lower his teacup back into its saucer.

“Oh?”

She nodded vehemently. “Well, his father was his age when we wed, was he not? I fear he will remain a loose cannon if he does not marry.”

Her brother, Luke Skywalker, without a proper heir, could not fully comprehend her concerns, though he certainly had concerns of his own. She felt them keenly, however, and that dignified a response.

He set his teacup aside on a nearby table, uncrossing his legs in thought.

At length, he told her, “I do not believe Ben will appreciate you meddling in his personal affairs. He is hardly a boy.”

She waved a hand, as if to shoo the thought away. Though, perhaps the fact that Ben was _not_ a boy was a part of the problem. Luke sighed; there was very little wisdom he could offer that would comfort her, considering he remained unmarried still. There was no sense in marrying now, at his age. What wealth his father had left him would be bequeathed upon his nephew, at the event of his death.

If there was one thing that Luke could determine, it was that Benjamin Organa would live quite comfortably--already, he was in search of his own residence, the money his ship captain father had left him to be used as down payment.

“You are right, of course,” she answered, stroking the ear of her rather aged greyhound. “If he does not marry before I am gone, however, he _never_ will. He will find a great, big house and squander in it until he has gone completely grey. There is nothing to be done for it, he must wed before old age takes me.”

Luke offers her a short laugh. “Surely you are being dramatic. He is a reasonable man, I am certain he can be responsible for his own nuptials.”

She leveled him with a look that was meant to disagree, and Luke did not dare speak further. After all, he quite enjoyed his life as a bachelor.

They fell into a companionable silence once more, until the clock on the mantle chimed, and the grandfather clock down the hall and in the drawing room joined it.

When all was quiet, Leia spoke once more. “How is your young ward? She must be twenty already.”

This seemingly casual question was very cunning, indeed. He might have laughed, if he was not irritated at the thought of Rey being roped into his nephew’s dilemma.

“Nineteen,” he corrected with a crisp tone.

His sister was much too transparent. Rey Kenobi was, of course, an eligible match for her son. Her name carried weight, and their families had a well connected history. She had a small fortune of her own, but eventually she would have no choice but to become someone’s bride. Luke loathed the idea of his lively, spirited ward being reduced to the role of a wife, though his radical opinion would hardly be acceptable--or appropriate--in the eyes of his sister.

“Nineteen,” she repeated, an expression of longing taking over her features.

Without warning, she clapped her hands together. “You know, it has been such a long time since I have held a proper ball. Bring dear Rey, let her taste the delights of the season, instead of keeping her in the country to run wild.”

He huffed. “Leia, I can see right through you. If you think I am going to let you play matchmaker with Rey and your son--”

“There is no need to jump to any conclusions,” she interrupted, “but consider: Rey will need to marry eventually. I know you will want her to find a husband that will care for her and provide real financial stability. Ben is a good man. She could hardly do better.”

He sat back in his armchair, frowning. Leia was right, as she always was. If Rey _had_ to marry, his nephew was perhaps the most suitable match for her.

“Moreover, she will remain connected with our family. Old Ben would have been delighted by the prospect,” Leia insisted.

Luke determined his best line of action was to resign himself.

 

* * *

 

To say Ben disliked a ball was a serious understatement. He loathed the very notion of attending one, especially one where his mother was so plaining attempting to find him a wife.

It was not that he fully rejected the concept of marriage, he just saw no reason to find a bride yet.

He had a house he was renting in town for the duration of the summer, and then he would spend all of autumn and winter in the north, at Armitage Hux’s place of residence. Though they were not the closest of friends, more like acquaintances who both agreed to tolerate the other, he and Hux found hunting to be a common interest. When the season was right, they made a habit of shooting the pheasants found on Hux’s property.

There was lively music and dancing and a bounty of eligible young women for his mother to throw in his direction, yet he found himself gazing out a window, his back to all the vibrant conversations to be had.

It was no great surprise to him that his mother approached.

“Ben, dearest, there is someone I would very much like to introduce you to,” she said as cordially as possible.

He frowned. Of course there was.

There was no escaping this fate, however, and so he turned to offer his arm.

“Now, I really would appreciate if you gave her a chance, at the very least,” she started.

Ben would have protested, had she paused long enough for him to do so.

“Miss Rey Kenobi is a very eligible young lady, and is the ward of your Uncle Luke. She has education and breeding, and I dare say, a good head on her shoulders. I have been speaking with her for a quarter hour, and I have found her nothing short of delightful.”

“Mother,” he sighed, “you know very well that I have no interest in finding a bride.”

She tapped his hand affectionately.

“I know that, Ben, but if you do not marry before I am gone, you never will...and I would very much like to see my grandchildren soon.”

His mother was most artful. The greatest misfortune was that her manipulation had a chance of working. It might have been that he had no real option but to marry, if she was so insistent.

He saw his Uncle, facing towards him, and the back of a young woman. Her hair was fixed into a series of three knots, all intertwined with small, ivory flowers and pearls. Her gown was a creamy shade of eggshell, and he was slightly relieved to find she had sensible taste, compared to most women of her station.

His uncle spoke, and she spun about. His steps faltered.

It was the water nymph. The young lady he had happened upon not half dressed in a river; the one he had regrettably, if his memory served him correct, accused of practicing witchcraft.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ben reach an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned to post this much sooner, but unfortunately, I had some issues and half of what I had written for this chapter got deleted. Well, at least I've managed to get something up now.

While she had been dutifully smiling, her countenance fell in recognition, eyes widening in both horror and fury. She certainly had not forgotten him, either. Considering their previous meeting, Ben almost expected her to storm off, like the feral creature he knew her to be.

She shifted onto her other foot, showing her own discomfort, and Ben could not reign in his own mind before his thoughts wandered to the lingering image of her in the water, long legs so inappropriately exposed. He should have been ashamed of himself.

“Ben,” Luke addressed with an exhausted tone, “may I introduce to you Miss Rey Kenobi, my young ward. She would be very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Ben exhaled, inclining his head.

Luke continued, “Rey, this is my nephew, Mr. Benjamin Organa.”

She forced a smile, and Ben could not help but to feel impressed.

“I am so glad to finally meet you, Mr. Organa,” she curtsied. “Your mother has been kind enough to tell me such diverting stories about you.”

He swallowed back a grimace. She was certainly an actress, he would give her that.

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you, Miss Kenobi,” he gave a curt bow, “though I assure you my mother has the tendency to exaggerate.”

Her smile became waxen, her eyes thinning dangerously. “I have seen no evidence of that, Sir.”

Ben straightened his back. He had found a way to slight her in even the most civil of conversations. Perhaps, a more likely alternative, the young woman simply disliked him. He wondered if he had any chance of talking to her without offending, regardless of what he said.

His mother cleared her throat, giving him a pointed look.

“Rey, were you not just telling me how you loved to dance? I should hope you have the opportunity to do so tonight,” she remarked, flipping open a small fan.

Ben knew well when he was being told to do something. He resigned himself.

“If you are not otherwise engaged, I would be honored if you would join me for the next dance.”

“I am not engaged,” she said.

The music changed, and he offered his hand. Her arm was slender as it slipped into the crook of his elbow, and though she was rather tall for a woman, he was rather _taller,_ and he had a pleasing view of the crown of her head, the way the loose curls that framed her face seemed to caress her freckled cheeks, the way her long neck sloped to narrow shoulders.

She waited only for his mother and uncle to be out of hearing range to whisper, “You could have told me you were Luke’s nephew.”

“If you do recall, madam, I did, in fact, _try_ to tell you. Instead of allowing me to explain myself, you--”

“Excuse me, Sir,” she interrupted, “but you can hardly blame me for being upset. I was being _spied_ upon, you will remember.”

“You cannot describe that as spying. As I said before, I was merely passing through. I had been riding hard and my horse needed water, will you seriously fault me for that?”

They stepped onto the floor, gliding easily with the rest of the dancers. She was certainly adept enough to easily maneuver while holding an argument, and once more, Ben found himself impressed, however vexing she was. He had nothing but disdain for her manners, but she was graceful, to say the least.

“I will fault you,” she murmured as they spun about, “for allowing your eyes to wander where they ought not.”

To that remark he had no defense. She was right in being offended, when his gaze had certainly lingered on her figure in the river.

“I beg your forgiveness, then,” he uttered, leading her through a reel, “for my wandering eye. At the time, I was quite surprised.”

She seemed to relax at his apology and quiet admission, her shoulders not as tense while maintaining proper posture. He was startled when she gave a short laugh, and he glanced at her, to see how her face lit up in good humor.

The remainder of the dance was spent in an easy, companionable silence. It was difficult to speak on the dancefloor without being overheard by inquisitive neighbors, and as Ben led her through circles and reels, he watched as realization of their position crossed her features. Thoughts spun in her head like cogs, and he could see each of them as the flashed across her face.

When the music transitioned, Rey allowed him to guide her away the floor and to the relative privacy of a nearby corner.

He saw no sense in beating around the bush--they both _knew_ \--and so the moment he had her as alone as he could while still appropriate, Ben was frank with her. “My mother intends to marry us.”

She showed no surprise. In fact, she revealed nothing of how she felt.

“I am aware,” she replied, glancing over his shoulder to a set of gossiping women, old enough to have grown children of their own.

After a moment of careful consideration, she leaned closer with a whisper. “Would you be willing to discuss this somewhere less...public?”

Ben surveyed the floor, before replying with a curt nod of his head. This was enough of an affirmation for her to surge her hand forward to grab his, and she pulled him away. He knew how it looked to be torn away from a large party to be secluded with a woman, and he could not find the heart to care, despite the brief, knowing look he received from his mother from across the room. He did not deign to acknowledge it.

Once in the hall, he tugged her towards the library which, at this point in the evening, would without a doubt be empty. She followed with quick steps, light on her feet in a graceful sort of way he often admired in young women. As he quietly shut the door, she walked further into the large library, taking in the endless shelves of books in many languages, collected by both of his parents over years of travel.

Certain that they were alone, and therefore capable of speaking openly, Rey turned towards him.

“Will you allow me my freedom if I consent to marry you?”

He blinked, startled by her question. “You cannot be serious. Regardless of what my mother may want, we have no need to marry.”

The flickering candlelight cast wild shadows on her lovely face. There was something absolutely untamable about her, something he could never touch should he want to; Ben found that he decidedly did _not._ She was fierce and unforgiving as the sea, and he could not fully comprehend the twist of desire coiled in his gut at her unmoving gaze.

Her response was simple. “Is that really true?”

Rey’s honesty was cutting. He wanted to deny his need to marry, but it would do him no good. She was already well aware that they were both trapped by their station. He was a young man of good fortune, and she was a young woman with breeding. Though his desire to marry had yet to flare, she knew the truth. They both benefitted from marriage, regardless of the fact that they were hardly close enough to be considered mere _acquaintances._

When he remained speechless, she repeated, “Will you allow my freedom?”

He slipped so naturally into sarcasm, Ben couldn’t stop himself. “Does your freedom include traipsing across the countryside in your underthings?”

She had the dignity to sound amused. “Sometimes, yes.”

Rey must have recognized her position well enough to know there were very few gentlemen with as good a fortune as him in her acquaintance. It would please his mother, to see him wed, especially to the last of the Kenobi house. Ben studied her face, lovely in the dim light, searching for a reason to not agree.

If she had a condition, he saw fit he had one of his own.

“Will you bear me a son?” he asked back.

Her voice was determined, as if the question was anticipated. “I will give you as many children as you desire, so long as you give me the freedom to be myself. That is all I care for in a husband.”

Ben let out a long sigh. However doubtful he might have felt about marrying a woman that was more stranger than friend, it would be a simple matter to get the marriage business over with and wed her. At the very least, it would be less complicated than spending the next few years with his mother leaning over his shoulder at every turn and a search for a woman that would consent to marry him.

“Very well,” he murmured. “We have an agreement.”

She gazed at him in wordless wonder. It was a very strange thing, to meet a person and consequently agree to marry them a quarter of an hour later, and she must have thought much the same.

It was only after some hesitation that she continued. “May I ask one thing of you, before we agree to this?”

Ben inclined his head, bewildered by the sudden change in countenance. While she had been sure of herself in discussing the potential of their marriage, in asking this she was shy, as if uncertain of what she wanted.

“Would you kiss me?”

For a second, he floundered, lips parting in astonishment at the abruptness of her request. Her eyes fell to the side to avoid his stare when he did not immediately reply.

With an air of self-consciousness, she quickly uttered in explanation, “I understand if that does not appeal to you, but you saw me in the river; you know what you are getting by marrying me. I do not know what I am getting whatsoever.”

Rey looked up at him then, and through her nerves he thought he could see her, in her more basic form. Alone but not lonely, afraid but not cowering. Ben knew in that moment, she was a strong woman. He recognized something familiar in her that he often observed in his mother, and it was not an unpleasant thing to know she was the steady, unyielding sort.

He took a step closer, crowding her against a small reading table at the center of the room.

“Are you quite certain?”

He was asking more than if she was certain that she wanted him to kiss her--he was asking whether or not she was certain she wanted to _marry_ him. She tilted her face up towards him, nothing short of serious.

She was resolute. “Yes, I am.”

Ben did not feel that it was necessary to ask further if she was sure she wanted a marriage in which there would be no love. He dared not insult her tenacity.

He dipped his head forward, and brushed his lips against the velvet peach of hers. Though he had not intended for anything more intimate, her mouth opened to her, and he had not the restraint to hold himself back. She tasted of mulled wine spices and french lavender, her breath warm and fragrant, and however shameful it might have been, he drank her in until she was flushed and gasping, eyes wide with amazement.

Ben retreated at that, though he was assailed by the reprehensible desire to place his hands upon her waist and gather her closer to him, so he might feel the fluttering beatings of her heart as she attempted to collect herself. That, he knew, he could not do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the lovely feedback in the last chapter! I'm so glad to have readers who are just as excited about this AU as I am. Anyway, as always, comments and kudos are appreciated. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Rey did not immediately tell Luke of her intentions to wed his nephew. They had been staying in his sister’s house, where privacy was difficult to find; though she supposed she and Ben had done well enough during the excitement of the ball. Her lips still tingled at the thought of his kiss, so vibrant and beseeching that she knew not what to make of it. It had certainly gone beyond what she had asked of him, and even further beyond what was proper.

It was during the carriage ride home that the news finally burst from her--she feared she could hold it in no longer. Already, she had been engaged for a full fortnight.

“I am to be married to your nephew,” she announced, as Luke had been looking through the window at the view of some pretty wilderness. If he had been younger, he would be making the journey on horseback.

In an instant, his head turned towards her.

“Rey,” he started, “there is no need to feel bullied into helping Ben out of his predicament by Leia. You still have plenty of time, or do you take me for dead already?”

Rey laughed at his hopeful, crooked smile, shaking her head. “No, Sir, you misunderstand me. I mean to say that we are already engaged.”

His eyes blew wide. She half expected him to order the carriage around, but he thought better of it.

“How is this?” he exclaimed. “You have only met him once, and you say you are already engaged?

She managed not to shrug. “He proposed just after we danced, in the library. We reached an accord, and seeing as such an arrangement between us would be mutually beneficial, I saw no need to deliberate further.”

“You mean to tell me that you have accepted this man!”

Rey folded her hands into her lap. “I have.”

He sighed, his breath coming out in a long, slow gust as he slumped slightly. Rey remained with a straight back and calm demeanor, waiting for further objection. She surely had not heard the last of what Luke felt necessary to say.

“Rey, are you certain of this decision? He is my nephew and I can vouch for his family name, but it has been very many years since I last spent any amount of time with him. I knew Ben as a boy, but as a man, he is a stranger to me. His mother will insist that he is as good a man as his late father, but I know not what sort of husband he will make for you.”

Rey smiled. He was concerned for her wellbeing, and for her fragile happiness. She could not fault him for _that._

“I entered an agreement,” she replied, voice taking a firm edge. She would not be talked out of the engagement, and she felt the pressing need to prove she would keep her word, so long as her husband-to-be gave her the same honor. “There may not be any love between us--and perhaps there never will be, but I’m not romantic, you know. I never was. So long as I provide him a son, I will be free to do as I please; surely that is more than what most other husbands would offer me.”

She watched him deflate further. “I wish I could do something to provide you some form of security,” he said.

Rey reached across the carriage to place her hand on his.

“You’ve done much more for me than I can ever repay,” she paused. “Besides, I have met Mr. Organa once before. So, you see, we are not _total_ strangers.”

“Have you?” he inquired, stroking his beard in thought. “I do not recall his visiting in the time since I took you in.”

She shook her head, grinning with mischief as she leaned forward. “No, I’m afraid he came across me while riding through the woods surrounding the estate.”

His brow furled at the very notion. “And he proposed still? After knowing how you enjoy to ramble through miles of mud in your bare feet?”

“He thought I was a witch. I scared him away before I could learn his name, or he, mine. Besides, it’s best we know these things about each other at our engagement, rather than him learning it when we are married. I was able to bargain my way out of being kept to his house like a proper lady.”

Luke laughed at that. “As much as it pains me, you might be a good match for my nephew. He will not ever be bored; you will see to that.”

Rey beamed, leaning back in her seat. “Well, I will certainly strive to keep him on his toes. He will find me ill-fit for complacency, I fear.”

 

* * *

 

Ben did not see his intended for months, their only contact being through writing. In fact, he did not have the opportunity to behold her once more until the day of their wedding, as she glided towards him in white to be joined at the alter.

She was unarguably a handsome young woman. Though her veil, a lovely yet simplistic lace, served to conceal much of her expression, he caught the flash of a coy smirk as she turned to face the parish clergy.

He had hoped to have a small wedding, but his mother would not allow it. Rey Kenobi was the last of her household, and if that was not enough to attract guests, he was Anakin Skywalker’s sole grandchild, and heir to not only his wealth, but that of the Organa’s as well. The event was an unavoidable spectacle, with an entire plethora of strangers standing in church to watch as he married a woman he scarcely knew.

Ben had woken that morning and pitied Rey, for she surely had to be nervous to wed him, a man that she had met _twice_ in the entire span of their acquaintance. However much he dreaded leaving his life as a bachelor behind, the expectation that was to be placed on her shoulders were more weighty than his slight loss of freedom.

Still, Rey stood tall, and Ben could not help the pride he felt for her because of it. Fiery though she might have been, she was strong, and he hoped she could bear the weight without buckling.

Her voice did not tremble or hesitate as she made her vows. He held her hand for the first time as he slipped a gold band upon her finger, binding her to him until death do they part. Her palm was soft and warm in his, and he knew not how to feel about his bride.

He followed after the clergy without considering any meaning his words might hold, allowing them to flow too easily from his mouth. _“With this Ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”_

There was cheering as they left the church, having signed the register as man and wife. She wanted to take his hand and run, just as the children did as they burst into the late-morning sun and glistening snow; he watched as she swallowed back the impulse with clenched fists. Instead, she smiled up at him as she slipped her hand into his, so much larger than her own, and in her eyes he could perceive some level of hope.

In the few letters that had passed between them, tone had been lost in her written voice, but Ben supposed most women anticipated their wedding day with great joy. He could not speak for Rey, nor on how she felt to be married to him, but relief filtered through his breath at the knowledge that she did not, so far as he could tell, dread him.

He threw back her veil, and the lace settled over the crisp, sky blue of her satin bonnet like clouds on a fine day. Her cheeks were pink with flush, but he could still see the faint freckles on her face, and Ben was struck by the thought that truly, his bride was beautiful. He smiled back briefly, despite his uncertainty, and leaned over to brush his lips against the corner of hers, if only to see her face turn pinker still.

It was her wedding day, he reasoned, she ought to at the very least be treated like she was loved. The pleasure of seeing her blush had nothing to do with it.

They had already agreed upon simple proceedings, in the letters between them. After marrying in the parish--under special license--on his uncle’s estate, they were to celebrate the happy affair and stay their first night as husband and wife. They would be expected to consummate the marriage, and in the morning following, they would leave for a short bridal tour. They would stay the whole of winter in his house in town, and in the summer he would find a proper estate in which they could start a family. Everything was laid out and agreed upon.

Thinking back to the inflection of her handwriting, sedate and clinical, he assumed she would treat their wedding night with the same sense of duty. Attraction had not crossed his mind, and he had not prepared himself for her easy smiles and rosy cheeks.

Ben had known his wife was a beauty, yet he had somehow forgotten in their months apart. As she ate from their wedding cake, he could not keep his eyes from her lips, nor his mind from the memory of how she had looked in the library, as he corralled her against a table and kissed her was the ferocity of an animal. He remembered the long, slender legs he had seen standing in the shallow river, and how her burning fury stunned him. Those slender legs now sat a foot away, under layers of silk and delicate lace, and this realization was absolutely maddening.

Though intimacy between he and his new bride was expected and even necessary, Ben had not anticipated the sudden yearning that heated his loins. Rey may have been his wife, but it felt wholly inappropriate to look at her through the lense of his base desire. The consummation of their marriage was obligatory, and guilt swarmed his throat at the lust he felt.

She did not desire him; she was putting on an act, and it was impressive enough to convince _him_ of her feelings. She was trying to be a proper bride, and he was being swept away by her carefully placed smiles and delicate hand gestures. He saw her trail the round ends of her fingertips over the white of her wrist for the third time, her eyes a blend of nervousness and easy pleasure. No one would have suspected theirs was a marriage of convenience; she was a talented actress.

Ben felt exceedingly foolish for the remainder of the day, and perhaps more so when it was time they both retire for the evening. He expected the act to drop once behind closed doors, but she was determined to be strong to the last. When he entered the bedchamber, she had already emerged from her closet, and was situated under the covers, a book in her lap and a candle at her bedside.

It seemed she was utterly unconcerned. He strived to imitate her confidence.

 

* * *

 

Rey did not hear her husband emerge, engrossed as she was, and was therefore startled by the deep tone of his voice.

“What are you reading?”

He sounded not angry but curious, and so Rey looked up from the dimly lit pages to face him.

“Herschel,” she answered, voice equally low, softened by exhaustion. “I have been studying the _Catalogue of Nebulae and Clusters of Stars.”_

He blinked a moment, perhaps surprised by her interest, but decided not to question further. He had surely expected a novel of sort--Austen was considered acceptable reading material, but the work of an astronomer? She doubted he would take any pleasure at the knowledge that his young wife admired star gazers and mathematicians and prefered heavy books over sewing and gossiping over tea.

She could not ignore him as he slid into bed as well, try though she might. The bed was not particularly large, and though they were not touching, she could feel the heat that radiated from him. He tilted towards her slightly, if only to look upon her pages. He huffed a quiet laugh through his nose and smiled, but still said nothing.

Instead, her husband eased away once more and lay down, his back to her as he settled to sleep. Bewilderment flushed her. Had he no intention of consummating their marriage? Rey had spent months preparing herself, knowing that she had agreed to become his wife, she had refused to fail her duties in any manner. She believed in acting wholeheartedly, and to her, it no longer mattered that she did not love her husband, the fact remained. He was her husband, and he needed a son.

He was her husband, and on her wedding night, she wanted to share a warm bed.

Rey set aside the academic journal, and reached for Ben instead. His shoulders were firm beneath her fingers, and when she pulled him flat on his back, he gaped up at her, astonished.

“Are you not forgetting something?” she murmured, peering down at him, her hair about her shoulders. It was a forward move to make, but she lifted the blankets away and slipped onto his lap, her legs clenching around the width of his hips. He was solid beneath her, every muscle clenching tight with anticipation.

“Madame,” he started, “you need not force yourself--”

“Does it look to you as if I am forcing myself to do _anything,_ Mr. Organa?” she interrupted, fiddling for a moment with the hem of her nightgown. Slowly, she gathered the material up, lifting the loose gown over her hips to bare the hot junction of her thighs to him.

His resistance shaken, she opened her legs further and- _-oh!_ She felt him stir, his lower half more honest about what he wanted than anything his mouth could say. She watched him press his lips together in a thin line, ashamed by his arousal.

“If you would be so kind,” Rey whispered, dipping forward, “I would very much like my husband to fulfill his duties.”

Her kiss was chaste, but the way his hands smoothed over the tops of her thighs was decidedly not.

“Ben,” he finally said. “Call me Ben.”

She lifted her gown over her head and dropped it off to the side. He was no longer hesitating, if the way his palms grazed over her ribs and reached for the small swells of her chest was any indication.

“Ben,” she breathed to his lips, “will you give me a wedding night?”

He answered with teeth, nipping at her lower lip until it was full and swollen, his tongue a soothing balm to the scrape of his teeth. Gently, he tipped her over, careful to not settle too much of his weight against her as his hips slotted against hers.

“Yes, I will,” he told her, eyes roving the dips and curves of her body.

Rey did not doubt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no smut in this one! There will be an epilogue of sorts, and then we'll be finished! I do plan on writing their wedding night, but it will be posted as a one-shot, so keep your eyes open for it.
> 
> Thank you for all the amazing feedback I've gotten on this fic! Comments are always appreciated. ;)


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you missed the wedding night one-shot I posted, it's titled "A Warm Bed," and it's part four of my trope series.

_Ten years later_

It was late at night when Ben found himself home at last, and though the great windows of his home, numerous and large, were unlit and his family likely to be asleep, he was grateful to be back from town. Business had driven him away, but there was nothing quite so simple as the joy of returning to his own stead.

The housekeeper greeted him as he entered through the stables, and he excused her for the evening with a tired wave, wishing her goodnight. She answered with a thankful curtsy, then told him that Mrs. Organa was in the drawing room before making her exit.

He smiled at that, forever amused by the notion of his wife being called Mrs. Organa when it would always be his mother’s name. She loathed it, and had caused a small uprising amongst the house staff when insisting she be called Rey. It had not stuck, however, and most of the staff resolved to simply call her Madame. Even Rey could not win over the housekeeper, however. The woman was set in her ways.

He stalked the hall with nothing but small candle, Rey’s portly bulldog panted as she trotted out to meet him with all the enthusiasm a hound could possibly possess, and he heard his wife call out, irritated by her dog's unexpected retreat.

“Bee, come back!”

Bee stumbled and leapt over his riding boots, ecstatic as he followed the sound of his wife’s voice. She had her back to the doorway, arranged as she was at a small table with an assortment of dusty books. Beside her was a pot of tea, kept warm with a cozy. Ben beamed at the sight of her, leaning against the door jamb as Bee snorted her way back to Rey and pawed at her skirt, stub of a tail wagging.

Relenting all too easily, Rey turned about in her chair, allowing Bee to place her front paws onto her knees. She scratched the dog’s ears, gaze flitting over to him, though she never faced him.

“I see you over there, Sir,” she teased, still petting Bee. “Do you think you can sneak up on _me?”_

“Not at all,” he said, uncrossing his arms and pushing away from the door to approach. “Are the children in bed?”

“All but one,” she sighed, smoothing a hand over the fullness of her belly. “I am not sure how, but your youngest is more active than the twins ever were.”

“You could be carrying twins again,” he murmured, dropping his palm to her swollen middle to feel the thrumming of their unborn child. She huffed at him when he brushed his lips to her hair.

“If you joke about that any more, you will seriously regret it,” she informed him, tilting her face to beg for a kiss.

Ben was more than happy to oblige his wife. “I have no doubt,” he mumbled into the warmth of her mouth.

Theirs might have been a marriage of convenience, but Ben was happy to have Rey as a wife. Her free spirit was nothing short of tantalizing, her figure striking even as she was so near to birthing their fourth child, and her love for their children made him adore her more.

“Come to bed,” he said. “The doctor said you ought to be getting proper rest.”

“Yes, yes, love,” she smiled against the press of his lips, “but you cannot convince me that some doctor knows more about my body than I do.”

He straightened his back and offered a hand to help her up, which she accepted gladly. Bee was snuffing at her skirts, anxious at the knowledge that her master was moving. At least Ben could rely on the dog to worry, if she would not.

“You’ve been taking long walks,” he accused affectionately, tucking her arm into his elbow and guiding her away from her reading.

She did not deny it. “There is no reason to be concerned, Ben. I take the boys with me, and the exercise benefits us all.”

“The boys are _six,_ Rey. If you were to go into labor in the middle of the woods with them, they would be more hindrance than help.”

“Hush,” she laughed, leaning into him. “They like walking with their Mama.”

Of that, Ben had no doubt. Whenever their sons went exploring with their mother, they always returned to the house with pockets full of creek stones and favored twigs, leaves in their hair and their shirts stained with grass, matching, grubby grins on their small faces. The housekeeper would promptly chase them into the bath without fail, complaining about the dirt all the way.

“My concern is hardly unwarranted,” he said.

She appeared to be more pleased by the fact he worried for her than the idea that she should keep closer to the house.

“I know,” she answered softly, squeezing his arm. When he glanced down at her, the temptation to kiss her once more could not be quelled.

She tasted of black tea and bergamot, and Ben worshipped her with lips and tongue and teeth in the middle of their darkened hall, just as in love with her as he ever could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and for the lovely comments you've all made. I'm happy to announce that jennity-blogs on tumblr will be recording her reading of Good Opinion! I'm ridiculously excited about it, and be sure to check out her audio work! :)
> 
> I know the epilogue was really short, but all I wanted to really show is a snippet of where they end up. Fluffy to an extreme, I know.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated, as always. :)
> 
> There will be at least a second chapter, which is already mostly written, and perhaps a third, depending on how far I want to take this little adventure.


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